


Non-existent

by waywardjoy (CNK80Q3demoneyes)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dorky Dean, Gen, Humor, case!fic, chupacabra, crack!fic, random references to Lassie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23807032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CNK80Q3demoneyes/pseuds/waywardjoy
Summary: This is my submission to the @spnfanficpond Unfic Challenge on tumblr. My prompt was a pool skimmer, bonus points for no pool in the fic.Summary: On the hunt for the fabled chupacabra, Sam thinks Dean Is an idiot.
Kudos: 2





	Non-existent

The squall of ancient hinges screamed as two heavy doors slammed in unison. Dust clouds settled around them as they looked around.

“Where are all the cactus?”

“That’s Arizona. This is middle-of-nowhere Texas. Why exactly?”

“I found us that case.”

“There’s no way this is a case, Dean!” Sam rounded the hood of the impala onto the dirt pathway. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, little brother.” Sam watched in disgust as he crammed the last quarter of his double bacon cheeseburger into his mouth. Smacking obnoxiously. Little trail of grease trailing down his chin. 

“Ugh. Use a napkin at least.” 

Dean smiled around the half chewed food, wiping his chin on his sleeve. “God I missed these.” Pulling a folded newspaper from his back pocket, then pounding it into Sam’s chest for good measure, “this is most definitely a case!”

Employing bitchface #103, Sam shoved his brother away to open the paper. “...`hairless canine figure with blue-gray flesh and bony limbs. Soon after, she and her husband found one of their chickens with its throat torn open, apparently drained of blood.’ So? A starving stray ate a chicken. Call animal control.”

Dean yanked the paper out of his hands to show Sam the back. Jabbing his finger at the photo there. “We have to find this thing.”

Sam’s exasperation could be felt for miles. “That’s just an artist’s rendition.” Stepping into his brother’s space, “Dean. Listen very carefully. Chupacabra, are not real.”

“I am so proving you wrong.” 

The faded white screen door creaked as a woman poked her head out, “May I help you gentlemen?”

“Good afternoon, Mam. We’re Fish and Game Wardens, Hetfield and Ulrich. We’re here about the reports of a nuisance coyote.” Dean flashed a fake badge.

“Oh. Hello, I’m Ruth Martin. You can call me, Mrs. Martin. Please come in.” 

She led them into a very quaint kitchen and motioned for them to have a seat at the small table. 

“Timmy saw the thing. And Pa called the sheriff to warn the neighbors. That must be how that nosy newspaper man found out. Did the sheriff call you?”

“Yes, mam, he did. Said we should look into the possibility of a sick possibly rabid coyote.” Sam took a seat in the tiny chair next to his brother. 

“Well, as I said before, Timmy saw it. He was in the fields while Pa tilled the back forty. That boy. I tell ya, he gets into more mischief. Remind me to tell ya about the time he got trapped in the old Miller’s Mine. If it wasn’t for that dog.” She looked wistful as a small boy gracelessly plopped into a chair, a very alert collie at his side. Freshly baked cookies and milk appeared as if by magic on the red and white checked table cloth. Mrs Martin wrung her hands in her apron. 

“Well ya see, Misters-“ he paused to cram a cookie in his mouth, “ I was out keeping watch over Pa. Like I always do. My trusty Winchester by my side.” The boy patted the lever action rifle in his lap. Dean grinned. The collie yiped. 

“It was stalking through the field. All low crouch and moving slow. I had to get it before it got me. So I shot at it. But it ran off.”

“Sounds like you did the right thing.” Dean pat the boy’s shoulder. “Can you describe it to us?”

“Sure can, Mister!” Mrs. Martin wiped the chocolate smear from his face with her apron. “It had the shape of a dog. But no hair and it’s skin was bluish- grey. It had the longest teeth I’ve ever seen! Oh, and these spike things down it’s back. Billy says it was a chupacabra. Do you think it could be?” The collie gave a small whine.

“Yes.” “No. “ the brothers answered in unison. 

“You said it ran off, correct?” Sam asked. 

Timmy nodded. Mouth stuffed full, wiping his milk mustache with his sleeve. 

“But it came back.” Mrs. Martin was back to wringing her apron in her hands. “We lost 5 chickens.” The collie growled.

“Well don’t you worry, Mrs. Martin. We'll come back this evening with some traps. We’ll take care of it for you.”

“Take a cookie for the road, please. You boys be careful out there.”

The sun was setting in the horizon, Baby’s tires had just hit the pavement off the mile long dirt driveway when Dean’s phone rang. 

“Hello? Warden Hetfield?” Mrs. Martin’s voice was a terrified whisper. He could hear frantic barking in the background. “Um, can y’all come back? I’m pretty sure it’s back. The thing’s getting my goats!”

The squall of tires and an excited whoop were her only answer. 

***  
“See! It’s just a coyote!” A scraggly tail twitched spasmodically as the beast slurped and crunched and growled through the bloody goat carcass. “Gah! Stay back! I think it’s got mange!” Sam slung an arm out to stop Dean’s advance. 

Dean dropped his duffle and began assembling his tool of choice. “That’s no coyote! Just let me catch it.” Dean crouched low stretching a pole out towards the oblivious creature.

“Where the hell did you get a pool skimmer?”

“I don’t know. Been in the trunk for years. Thought it’d make a good catch pole.”

Sam shook his head in exasperation. “You’re so getting rabies.”

Dean’s hand waved in a dismissive gesture. “Probably. But if I can prove-“ he trailed off as his pool tool reached its destination. Bouncing jauntily off the thing’s head. He tried again with more force breaking the netting, and cracking across a blood stained muzzle. This seemed to be the monster’s breaking point, as it reared up and released a roar. 

One more swipe and the pole looped around the thing’s neck. Effectively sending it into a rage directed solely at Dean. 

“Flash light!!!” Dean bellowed, both hands death gripped on the flimsy handle. 

Sam aimed the bright beam in the monster’s face causing it to thrash and shake, nearly removing Dean’s arms from their sockets. The pole creaked and groaned. “It’s going to snap!”

“Shoot it!”

“I can’t! You’re too close!”

“Son-of-a-bitch!” The pole bent nearly in half, putting Dean practically face to face with the monster. Risking getting his face torn off, he dropped the pole in favor of the machete, strapped to his thigh. 

“Dean!”

The beast lurched forward. And with a sickening squelch the head flopped to the ground as Dean dropped heavily to his knees. 

Sam watched, wide eyed as Dean stood, kicking the head enough to make it roll, tongue lolling out. “Was that real enough for you, Sammy?”

“I think I’m still processing.”

“That was amazing!”

Sam released a humorless chuckle, “What? Finally proving the chupacabra is real? Or being stuck in a 1950s melodrama?”

“No. Well yeah, but this thing!” He held the broken skimmer like a trophy, “I’m so getting a new one! Maybe a bigger one. Stronger. “

“Idiot.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading y'all!


End file.
